Bleeding Vow
by f u r o g u
Summary: [ vincent ] He didn't mind gaining his feathers one by one to complete the black wings' outline she had given him. [: CANON :]


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****B**leed_i_ng V_o_w  
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He had stopped the echo to his revenge, yet his cloak was still raging…. because the hesitation led the memorable shout from his gun onto its stage. He believed the disgusting creature was a monster - a damn monster, in which having an ironical relation with himself. The owner of those red eyes, who had lost his tactical mood, he was also, a monster.

But that man… that man was obsessed. That monster in front of him was more than a monster. He was the one… creating chaos.

Bang.

He was one… abandoning her life.

Bang.

He was one… He was the one… Him! That monster! That monster…

"Stop!! Stop!"

"He's dead, Vincent! He's dead!!" Two little arms tried to pull his hand back. "He's dead!"

Part of him became angry. His eyes narrowed and his brows formed a hard bloodlust furrow. Why not tearing that body to rough pieces of meat? Why not destroying his skull until he lost that cynical face? Why not drinking that red blood until the monsters in him got satisfied? Why stopping after his soul went away?? He'd never cared about what were happening with other souls than his Jenova… not even his own… He'd never thought a heart was as good as those cursed cells… He only cared about the biological facts which in his mind were the only important things left in the world… If he truly did so, then they didn't only have to take away that monster's soul, but also his disgusting body.

Then why stopping? Why were they stopping him?

"Vincent – calm down. Hojo is dead. Okay? He's dead!"

Who were they, trying to stop him? Who were they? What did they know about him? That blond head just knocked, they just thought he was a companion, and now they stopped him… They took his gun away from him…

"There's no use staying here." The rude spiky head shook.

Why… Why…

…Why? His breath went back to its normal speed, as if the mako blue eyes were taking a role as cold water against his fiery eyes.

That guy was one giving him a chance.

Inhale.

That guy was another one suffering after the monster's mad research.

Inhale.

That guy… That blond head…

Echoes came from the closely falling building they were standing on. Tifa was still holding his arm, Cloud was still stretching his hands separating him from that monster, Cid was still cursing at what Vincent next noticed was his own mad acts…

Cait Sith was staring up at him. "…We need to get out of here."

- - - - - - - - - - -

He let his subconscious reflex work by itself, lifting his feet one by one, carrying him somewhere following the group. The only thing he remembered was old fire, trying to burn him down, and sadly, apparently, he wanted it to. He hoped the process was faster, his little blackened heart begged it to cover his old guilt. That old guilt was competing with the fire… Vincent got annoyed of their unnecessary noises. As if the monster's voice inside him wasn't irritating enough.

_Go back. That blood deserves to suffer more_.

The monster was right. But then Vincent let out blank laughter, causing confusion on the monster's thought.

_The dirty blood's no longer able to suffer. _His voice spread like mist into his own mind, the effect stayed fresh after it appeared.

_Ah, your coldness is back._ The monster grunted to show that he disagreed with the red eyed man's decision.

_I'm just beginning to think clearly. _He guarded his choice.

_Weakness. _Its rough voice looked down at him. An underestimation, he would say. _You'll regret it. I know you'll regret it._

Not affected by that statement, Vincent kept walking away from the damaged Midgar, following the group. _Right. _He said coldly. _I'll regret it._

_You'd better watch my words, little fool._ The fiend grunted again.

And then that voice left his mind behind. No. Its voice might've left him, but it was still inside and listening to what his brain was saying.

Behind his cloak's collar, an exhalation was hidden carefully. Fire was lost, old guilt came back taking over his mind now. Old determination, old thoughts, old state, old self. Old wish.

Old devotion…

Old affection.

And then a new guilt rushed in.

A doubt…

An emptiness.

What was revenge? He started asking. What was that for?

He had spent good long sleep inside a coffin with only two lights keeping him alive: memories of Lucrecia, and flame upon Hojo. He also had one side keeping his age going on without giving a sign to stop: the parasite in him.

But ironically, he had them all supporting his life when he didn't want to live.

Several years were uselessly wasted in Nibelheim's old mansion, remained empty, since he was locked, through the time a flame was set burning down the town, until the old wooden door was opened once again. It was when he realized, that he had power.

Back then, he cursed the parasite. But now, he thanked the fiend. Yes he did… far below his guilt, he did.

He was an iceberg that will never melt under the warm sun shine when he left the coffin, the mansion, and the town. This iceberg felt so itchy to pierce himself through someone's heart that he knew was still beating, too itchy that he assumed Lucrecia gave him the gun and the stronger parasite to do what he had done now.

What he had done… was no other than the revenge itself.

He should be proud, or relieved, or maybe forgiven a bit, at least.

But instead… emptiness was overwhelming him.

His parasite was right. Again.

He started regretting following the group walking back to Highwind.

- - - - - - - - - - -

…Sephiroth.

Once that name was mentioned in their little meeting, he jerked a bit. For a moment of victory he'd forgotten that the guy was still alive. Repeating that name in his mind, he grumbled a bit slower, bowing a bit lower, thinking a bit deeper.

Lucrecia's son. More than the fact Vincent once had known this guy as a powerful soldier who was just too absorbed in his past and history, his claw stiffened for it.

And then they started discussing how to defeat him.

He knew it was their first goal – to defeat the chaos bringer – which apparently came last above all of their business with the world. It felt different that Hojo was gone and only the chaos bringer left. As uninvited question rushed into him again, he couldn't say if he should kill her son, or if he should let them kill her son. She let Hojo took her, she let him take her son away from her, and now she let them go to kill the only child she ever had.

People might only remember what she had caused by her decision, but he only remembered what she had sacrificed by her pity to others.

That pity, until now he couldn't judge if it was a wrong or right thing.

The little meeting was over, along with his reminiscence.

Though, the discussion didn't seem over yet. Their conversation about battle formation could be heard through the door, beneath engine's noises. They talked about their fright, they wondered about what they were going to do, while he just stayed inside, with his silence fighting against the noises.

She wasn't dead.

But she was so high in a way, almost reaching the sky. That was why he accepted the outline of the black wings from her, didn't mind to spend his whole life gaining his feathers one by one.

If emptiness worth to be taken, then he would.

He seated himself on the floor. Unexpectedly, the door opened again.

This girl, who had never really talked to him, raised a brow at his state on the floor abandoning those chairs; yet she still didn't call him. To think of it, he was always standing. Hello? Always. If not standing, then sitting on the grass or sort of thing outside there. But never a chair, and now once on the floor. She knew he slept on a bed…. Or maybe not?

He caught her eyes. His collar hid his expression perfectly – at least to her.

"Good condition for good long search into a big misty hole!" She said suddenly. He smirked at her innocence. She didn't see it – unable to see it behind his collar, of course. But the piercing cold look had gone. That was all she knew.

That seemingly new look dashed away when she decided it was a good chance to put the plate in front of him. Plate. Food. One he hadn't eaten for almost five days. His life had mostly been depending on potions and such, and his other life source was the parasites' immortality. They all were enough.

The look in his eyes was a startled one, a taken back one.

"For your good ol' condition, you see?" She said with different tone, a bit confused and a bit hoping. "Sephiroth is… tough and you are not sword - proof."

His hand trailed on his gun's trigger subconsciously, out of her sight.

She waved her hand in front of his face, rather wondering if he was… sleeping?

"I can live," He said with low voice, which drove her to step back and run her hand to the back of her neck nervously. He continued, "without eating."

"Tifa warned me about that. But hehe." She laughed a bit. "You aren't a robot like the doll Cait!"

Now he had no expression on his face.

"Ever heard how monsters live?"

She grinned so widely. "Hehe no? But I've heard how someone… like Cloud, someone like you live…?"

He started really looking at her, noticing her pale face, recognizing the cause – which wasn't about his attitude, but about her uneasiness with vehicles. Especially this airship.

"You mean?"

"I mean," She began feeling like teaching a little boy who was acting cool with those fascinating outfit. "We both know you two will have faith for yourself, if we could warn you two!"

The engine's noises struck his ears louder than before.

"…Tifa said that first, anyway." She stepped back more.

That was the last. She left him with the plate, after that.

"….."

His hand still trailed on the trigger, beneath the noises of the engine.

A breeze had brought a little light back to the little candle of his confidence. He remembered fighting more monsters outside there, other than Hojo. He remembered he was given parasites to keep him ages going on increasing.

Lucrecia didn't give him those things to make sure he would get revenge for her.

She gave him those things so he could live.

- - - - - - - - - - -

An hour later…

Yuffie jumped out with common clinging sound behind her as the door was closed automatically. She felt winning something. She really felt like having a graduated little boy who usually acted cool behind his fascinating outfit.

"Umph!" Well, she needed another tranquilizer… the effect of previous one was about to leave her stomach…

She truly should get one from Cloud real soon before going to the little kitchen where Tifa supposed to be waiting… unless she would vomit onto the dirty empty plate in her hands.

- - - - - - - - - - -

**a / n:**  
weird? haha!  
i really like this one, in a way.

for **rokukami**'s contest (_faith_) :  
b _r o_ k e n . m _i r_ a g e

**f** u **r** o **g** u


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